UC-NRLF 


SB    E7S 


GIFT  OF 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


BT 

BERNARD    WESTERMANN 


SAN    FRANCISCO 

WHITAKER  &   RAY-WIGGIN   CO, 

J   9   I  3 


COPYRIGHT  1913 

BY 
WHITAKER  &  RAY-WIGGIN  Co. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Oriental  Verses  5 

Nirvana    6 

Panama  7 

The  Call  of  the  East  - 8 

Fujiyama    9 

By  the  Canal  10 

The   Fox  Shrine 11 

Mitsugahama .,  12 

To  the  Miyajima  Tori  14 

Waiting 15 

Mist  and  the  Curtain  of  Night 16 

To  Tensho  Daijin  17 

The  Conqueror  18 

Kamarada ~ 19 

The  Boxers  20 

The  Wheel  21 

Ishi  No  Yama  22 

My  Garden  23 

Mirume 24 

Passing  Sails  25 

Heroism  26 

Shimonoseki   27 

De  Senectute  28 

Inscription  From  the  Japanese 30 

The  Bottom  of  the  Sea  _ 31 

Ways  Forgot  33 

Asleep   34 

The  Fog  on  the  Downs  36 

Herodias'  Daughter 38 

Naturae  Dolor  _ 41 

The  Dreamer  of  Dreams 42 

Turn,   Truant  Days   43 

The  Tribute  to  the  Minotaur  _ 44 

The  Spirit  of  the  Foam  45 

The  Gate  of  Tears  46 

The  Bond  47 

The  Father's  Children  , 49 

The  Hermit  Thrush  51 

The  Mermaid  53 

Balshazar    55 

Shinto    59 

The  Goblin  King  !!..."."..!!!!!!!".  65 

Glow  Golden  Ocean  67 

Samothoe    68 

The  Heart  That  Eemembers  ..  69 


292189 


O  E I  E  N  T  A'L 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 

Old  Hafiz,  and  thou,  maker  of  silk  tents 

Of  Nishapur,  and  thou  who  carvedst  well 

Upon  a  cherry  tree  what  thou  wouldst  tell 
To  Nihon's  captive  lord,  hence,  hence,  O  hence 
The  massive  meter  and  the  heavy  sense 

That  ever  in  our  best  creations  dwell ! 

Your  thoughts  are  fountains,  ours  are  like  a 

well ; 

Our  hearts  are  groping  in  a  void  immense. 
A  granite  column  ours,  a  seaward  plain, 

Yours  of  the  Orient  a  mosque  divine, 
Silvery,  shining,  living,  till  the  fane 

Like  Nature's  self  breathes  in  the  soft  moon 
shine, 
A  poppy  opening  amid  golden  grain, 

A  sword,  a  mirror,  in  a  traceried  shrine. 


[5] 


VERSES 


NIRVANA 

There  is  Amida,  sublime  and  high, 

Who  far  in  a  Daimyo's  garden  stands, 
Eyes  half  closed,  he  has  crossed  his  hands ; 

He  waits  for  nothing,  he  cannot  die. 

He  has  tasted  and  drunk  of  the  wines  of  life, 
Of  every  passion  and  conquered  each, 

Till  a  silent  power  has  changed  the  strife 

To  the  sentient  calm  that  the  soul  may  reach. 


[6] 


OBIENTAL     VERSES 


PANAMA 

A  thousand  streams,  a  thousand  currents  flow, 
An  'embassy  of  ships  seeks,  mile  on  mile, 
To  greet  thee  where,  with  thine  eternal  smile, 

Thou  givest  each  to  each  the  deeps  below. 

Priestess  of  Earth's  new  marriage !  Shy  and  slow 
The  East  looked  on  the  West ;  there  is  no  wile 
But  is  her  secret,  yet  a  weary  while 

She  waited,  looking  to  the  sunset's  glow. 

Till  with  thy  living,  sacramental  tide 

Lo !  they  are  one.     Let  the  white  surges  play 

The  anthem  of  the  bridegroom  and  his  bride 
Forever  hoping,  now  forever  gay ! 

Fly  thou,  great  eagle,  bear  the  tidings  wide 
To  strands  afar  that  know  not  of  our  day. 


(71 


OEIENTAL  VEBSES 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  EAST 

Gold  and  the  plotting  of  men 

And  the  steam  of  a  city  at  night! 

Better  the  reek  of  a  fen 

And  a  thousand  fevers  to  fight. 

Who  would  be  crampt  in  a  pen 

Who  can   lie  under   heaven  at  night? 

Hundreds  of  buildings  to  tower 

Over  the  hard  flagged  way, 
Hundreds  of  clocks  on  the  hour 
Filtering  and  gilling  the  day. 
What  is  there  worth  to  say 

When   ten   thousand  tongues   are   repeating 
Slander,  and  lies  and  cheating 
Over  the  way? 

As  for  me,  I  was  called  and  I  came, 

Not  to  find,  not  to  leave, 
But  a  wind  came,  blowing  my  name, 

And,  behind,  who  would  grieve? 
Death   is  a  longer  going 

And  life  but  a  short  reprieve. 

You  say  there  is  nothing  to  do — 

No  life  to  live,  in  the  East. 
What  of  the  rest,  and  you, — 
Say  you  drink  and  feast 

Of  music,  art,  books  and  the  play, 
Is  that  living?    Or  is  it  living  least, 

Watching  most,  all  the  day?"" 
Is  life  on  the  page,  in  the  scroll,  on  the  stage, 
Or  out  with  the  winds  in  their  rage 
And  the  lights  on  the  bay? 

[81 


ORIENTAL     VEESES 


FUJIYAMA 

Fuji  is  light  and  snow-crowned  in  the  air, 
Like  an  old  pyramid  of  cloud  enwrought 

By  cloud  kings  long  ago  when  earth  was  fair 
To  an  eternal  shape  of  beauty,  fraught 

With   all   men's   dreams,   high   hopes   and   steep 
despair. 

A  hundred  vales  of  flowers  shall  grow  bare, 
A  thousand  peoples  pass,  and  when  they  go, 
Still,  on  untenanted  calm  heights  of  snow, 

The  smile  of  Shaka  will  dwell  changeless,  there. 


[9] 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


BY  THE  CANAL 

Lo  the  swift  years  like  silent  ships  go  by. 

With  golden  sails  or  grey  they  pass  and  fade, 
Bearing  their  cargoes  each,  wrought  out  and 

made, 

Symbols  of  all  that  is  beneath  the  sky, 
Iron  and  wool  and  the  rich  Tyrian  dye, 

Bones,  and  bright  onyx,  lead  and  lambent  jade. 
But  see !    by  quay  and  bank,  empty  and  floating 

high, 

Uncargoed  barks,  anear,  their  stately  sweep-oars 
ply. 


[10J 


ORIENTAL    VEKSES 


THE  FOX  SHRINE 

In  the  green  dawn  to  the  silent  door 

Who  cometh,  warily,  warily, 
When  I  and  my  children  lie  on  the  floor 

And  they  laugh  merrily,  merrily? 

He  cometh  without  with  a  silent  tread; 

Who  knoweth?     Of  old  I  have  seen  him; 
In  a  nest  of  leaves  is  his  burrowed  bed 

And  a  spray  of  pine  to  screen  him. 

His  coat  is  bright  as  the  maple  leaf, 

His  eye  is  keen,  is  keen. 
Lo,  if  ever  lovers  be  come  to  grief, 

'Tis  he  that  hath  come  between. 

I   built   him   a   shrine   in   the   camphor  grove 

And  decked  it  cheerily,  cheerily, 
Spiced  with  sandal-wood  and  with  clove ; 

And  when  he  cometh  wearily,  wearily, 

The  blossoms  glow  and  the  tapers  gleam, 

And  within  in  the  dim  array 
He  seeth  himself  and  he  falleth  adream : 

So  he  worketh  no  ill  that  day,  that  day, 

He  worketh  no  ill  that  day! 


EH] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


*MITSUGAHAMA 

Noon  wanes  and  shadows  broaden  on  the  wall ; 

The  hum  recedes,  the  turning  of  grim  wheels 
Grows  less,  and  down  the  long  and  whispering 
hall 

The  wasted  glory  of  the  sunset  steals. 

And  so  from  noon  I  journey  into  night. 

What  kens  my  day  of  all  the  hours?    Not  one 
But  might  be  seeing  golden  kingdoms  won 

And  kingly  camps,  and  armed  foes  in  flight. 

Day  goes,  comes  night  with  dark,  long  hours  of 
pain, 

When  from  my  couch  I  watch  the  lantern  light 
Approach  and  die,  approach  and  die  again, 

Till  all  things  die  except  the  living  night. 

And  one  within !     I  have  not  known  him  well, 
In  the  quick-fired  days  of  haste  and  act, 

But  he  has  waited  shyly ;  when  I  fell 

And   since,   when   I   have   lain   lone,   pent   and 
rackt, 

He  speaks  unceasing.  His  of  old  were  dreams 
And  magic  pictures  of  the  days  to  come ; 

He  used,  he  says,  to  drink  of  wondrous  streams 
Now  dry,  and  list  to  voices  that  are  dumb, 

Voices  that  clearly  spoke  of  high,  bright  things 
In  a  free  world.  And  is  the  world  yet  free? 

*The  Russian  war  prisoners  were  confined  near  this  point. 

[12] 


OKIENTAL     VEESES 


I  tell  him  he  should  ask  of  the  world's  kings: 
Who  am  I  now  that  he  should  ask  of  me? 

Then  comes  chill  dawn,  and  at  its  breath,  another 
Steals  through  the  room.  I  have  not  seen  his 
face, 

But  he  speaks  kindly:  Wherefore,  gentle  brother, 
Dwells  ever  sorrow  in  this  silent  place? 

Such  is  all  life.    But  I  of  old  was  weary 

And  sought  beyond.   My  name  is  feared,  but  I, 

I  know  I  found  but  rest  and  not  the  eerie 
Long  dreaded  silence  of  the  men  who  die. 

Then  every  dawn  I  give  my  hand,  and  dimly 
He  draws  me,  but  the  daylight  comes  too  soon 

And  the  great  wheels  begin  their  turning  grimly, 
And  so  from  night  I  journey  into  noon. 


[131 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


TO  THE  MIYAJIMA  TORI 

Stand,  mighty  gate,  portal  of  peace  and  prayer, 
In  lonely  beauty  'mid  the  waters  stand. 
Who  seeks  the  shrine  in  thy  self-seeking  land? 

The  priest  may  bend,  but  comes  the  suppliant 
there? 

Once,  rolled  the  voices  of  the  gods  in  air; 
Their  way  is  empty,  silent  is  the  strand, 
Save  when  those  seek  thee  with  the  breezes 
bland 

Who  bind  the  love-flowers  in  their  midnight  hair. 

And  Hachiman  goes  never  forth  to  war, 

Benten's  sweet  lute  untouched  the  winds  may 

ply 
Till  the  great  Wheel  hath  turned  its  round  once 

more 
And  marts,  and  ports,  and  sounding  mills  shall 

die. 

Stand,  mighty  gate,  and  watch  the  times  of  yore 
Dawn  yet  again  in  that  far,  sunrise  sky. 


[14] 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


WAITING 

I  know  the  beach  is  white  beside  the  sea, 
And  bronzed  fishers  draw  their  golden  nets 
Where  the  maned  tide  in  myriad  caverns  frets 

In  a  far  land  where  winds  and  life  are  free. 

I  know  there  is  on  some  untrodden  lea 

A  lodge  of  silence  where  the  lamplight  falls 
O'er  pictured  faces  on  the  twilight  walls, 

And  one  has  waited,  waited  long  for  me. 


[151 


OBIENTAL     VEESES 


MIST  AND  THE  CURTAIN  OF  NIGHT 

Mist,  and  the  curtain  of  night, 
And  the  sob  of  the  sea  on  the  stones, 
And  a  warning  in  basser  tones 

Where  the  siren  hard  by  the  light 

Heaves  in  the  surge  and  groans. 

Wrecks,  and  a  dead  man's  bones, 
And  a  chilling  phantom  of  fright. 
Mist,  and  the  curtain  of  night, 

And  the  sob  of  the  sea  on  the  stones. 


[16J 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


TO  TENSHO  DAIJIN* 

The  sunlight  has  shot  with  its  arrows, 

And  out  of  the  valley  below 
Has  wakened  the  slumbering  shadows 

And  set  Fujiyama  aglow. 

Who  comes  with  her  shy  silvern  sandals 

From  stream  to  stream  swift  down  the  steep? 

She  gladdens  the  blossoms  she  handles, 
She  laughs  by  the  willows  that  weep. 

She  bends  where  the  earliest  dawning 
Is  slant  through  the  glistening  bowers, 

And  brushes  the  tears  of  the  morning 

From  the  wondering  eyes  of  the  flowers. 

Dear  Goddess  of  glorious  waking, 
As  tender  and  fresh  as  the  streams, 

Be  with  us  when  daylight  is  breaking, 
And  lead  us  from  dreams  unto  dreams. 


*The  Sun  Goddess. 


[17] 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


THE  CONQUEROR 

He  who  treads  in  the  van, 

However  the  torrent  blows, 
He  who  strives  as  he  can 

And  counts  not  the  horde  of  his  foes, 
He  who  deems  him  a  man 

And  fearless  his  deeming  shows, 
Needs  neither  fear  nor  plan. 

Just  to  walk  in  the  throng 

Up  on  the  hills  or  down, 
Just  to  trust  and  be  strong, 

Never  to  know  a  frown, 
But  head  up,  striding  along, 

To  wear  a  smile  for  a  crown, 
And  for  sceptre,  a  song. 


[18] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


KAMARADA 

Kamarada  is  in  Lama, 

Where  the  silver  waters  flow 

Ever   past   the   black,    wide   windows 
To  the  bright  seas,  deep  below, 

Ever  past  the  walls  eternal 
Where  eternal  banners  blow. 

There  the  ivy  waves  triumphant 
From  the  turrets  of  the  wall, 

And  across  the  silent  lintel 

Where  the  feet  of  shadows  fall, 

Shadows  that  abide  eternal 
In  the  stone  and  gloomy  hall. 

Pacing  from  the  ivoried  chamber 
Where  the  tinkling  crystals  talk 

In  a  tiny  silvern  treble, 

Pacing  to  the  traceried  walk 

Where  forgotten  sunbeams  linger, 
Slow  and  ghostly  see  them  stalk. 

Blue  the  changeless  vault  above  them, 

Blue  below,  the  liquid  deep, 
But  the  grey  of  hoary  winter 

Is  upon  the  walls  of  Sleep, 
Winter  that  may  never  waken, 

Though  its  snows  have  ceased  to  weep. 

Winds  the  changeless  serpent,  coiling 
On  the  throne  of  polished  gold, 

Guards  the  dragon  still  the  doorway 
Where  no  footstep,  howe'er  bold, 

Ever  crosses  to  the  silence 

That  the  nameless  Shadows  hold. 

[191 


OBIENTAL  VEESES 


THE  BOXERS 

Oh  for  a  white,  white  hull 

And  smoking  funnels  of  tan 
And  a  round  boom  out  of  the  lull ! 

That  were  the  sight  for  a  man. 

A  Catling  gun  and  the  tramp  of  feet 
And  real  men  coming  up  the  street, 

Men   with   red  blood  in   their  veins, 
And  a  thousand  yelling  devils  would  run, 
Not  so  much  for  the  Catling  gun 

But  for  men,  men,  men  who  have  hearts  and 
brains ! 

I  know  a  tune  that  would  stir 

My  pulse  if  I'd  died  a  year! 
Mixed  it  is  with  the  bullets'  whir 
Under  the  palm,  under  the  fir — 

That  is  the  tune  I  would  hear, 
With  a  fife,  and  a  drum, 
And  a  shout,  and  a  hum, 

And  the  white  man's  roaring  cheer! 

What  is  the  gleam  in  the  sun 

By  the  temple,  beyond  the  bazaar? 
Just  a  point,  like  a  star, 

And  then,  look !  one  by  one 

See  them  shine!   It's  my  flag!   It's  mine! 

And  the  waiting  is  done. 


[201 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


THE  WHEEL 

I  met  a  Priest  upon  the  way 

From  Yamada  to  Noji-ri 
Where  Mount  Asama  all  the  day 

Wears  cloud-veils  of  the  distant  sea. 
And  aye  he  droned  a  song  that  said : 

The  Wheel  is  just;  the  Wheel  is  true, 

That  reckons  not  of  One  or  Two 
Nor  all  the  Living  nor  the  Dead. 


[211 


OEIENTAL     VEKSES 


ISHI  NO  YAMA 

I  saw  two  men  that  strove  upon  a  hill, 
Rolling  a  rock  that,  heavier  than  they, 
Stood  in  the  path,  and  one  of  them  to  stay 

His  yielding  strength  and  his  fast  ebbing  will, 
Shouted  aloud  with  every  fresh  essay. 

But  silent  bowed  the  other  to  the  load, 

Whose  face  I  could  not  see,  his  body  bent 
Like  one  whose  very  spirit  was  intent. 

And  lo,  the  rock  was  moved,  and  by  that  road 
Up,  o'er  the  hill,  all  silently  he  went. 


[22] 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


MY  GARDEN 

My  garden  is  a  hill  above  a  shore 

And  it  is  crowned  with  amaranth  and  rose, 

A  pleasant  breeze  among  the  blossoms  blows, 

And  drowsy  bees  'portime  them  evermore. 

Beneath,  I  know  a  rich  and  glittering  store 
Of  golden  booty  many  a  year  has  lain, 

Whose  rumor  is  of  old  romantic  lore, 

By  black  sea  captains  borne  across  the  main. 

Still,  be  the  beast  of  hunger  at  my  door, 

No  spade  of  mine  shall  strike  one  tendril  pain ; 
The  earth  is  full  of  many  a  sordid  gain. 

Thank  God  it  holds  some  few  bright  blossoms 
more. 


[23] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


MIRUME* 

Mirume  !    Mirume  !   so  she  cried, 
Down  by  the  billows,  down  by  the  tide, 
Down  by  the  green,  by  the  ebbing  water, 
Kinemiewa   the   Sea   God's   daughter, 
Whose  lover  hath  died. 

Mirume!    Mirume!   Where  art  fled? 

Many  a  furlong  far,  far  sped, 

Down  by  the  glimmering  coral  isles, 
Wooed  to  laughter  by  mermaids'  smiles, 

She  dreameth  thee  dead. 

Mirume !    Mirume !    Doth  she  know 
None   can   wither  and   die  below? 

'Mid  the  sands  that  are  deathless  weaving, 
Windless,  waveless,  there  is  no  grieving, 
Where  thou  dost  go. 

Mirume !    Mirume !    Still  she  cries, 
Wet  with  tears  are  her  cloud-grey  eyes, 
Kinemiewa  the   Sea   God's   daughter 
Ever  beside  the  cold,  green  water 
That  never  replies. 


*Kinemiewa,  daughter  of  Irima.  God  of  the  sea  and  ships  loved 
Mirume  a  deep  sea  sprite.  He  was  unfaithful  and  went  to  dwell  with 
the  sea  nymphs,  but  Kinemiewa,  because  neither  she  nor  her  father 
could  live  under  the  water,  but  only  upon  it,  ever  .mourned  him  as 
drowned.  Pearls  are  her  tears. 


[241 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


PASSING  SAILS 

The  shadowed  river  meets  the  sunny  strait, 
Wide  bends  the  strait  to  mingle  with  the  sea, 

And  carven  sampans  veering  through  the  gate, 
But  never  a  word,  O  never  a  word  for  me ! 

Aye,  one  by  one  their  prows  the  purple  flood 

Weaveth  to  mist,  their  sails,  the  silver  sky. 
Then   shall   I   know   that  age   hath   touched   my 

blood, — 

When  I  have  learned,  unmoved,  to  watch  them 
die. 


[251 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


HEROISM 

To  be  up,  to  strive,  and  to  do, 
To  shine  before  men,  a  light, 
A  meteor  in  the  night, 

Guiding  the  hero  few 

On  to  the  hidden  height, — 
Now,  with  the  future  bright 

Is  that  what  it  means  to  you? 

To  shout,  to  strike,  to  be  proud 
Is  easy, — to  this  we  were  born. 
But  to  brave  a  world  of  scorn 

With  lips  closed  and  head  bowed, 
When  life  is  sombre  and  worn 
To  keep  your  eyes  on  the  morn, — 

This  is  above  the  crowd. 

When  the  fife  sings  shrill, 

"Come  away  to  the  war ! 

There  is  glory  for  all,  for  all !" 
And  the  drums  go  prating  over  the  hill, 

And  they  call  for  more — for  more ! 

It  is  easy  to  serve,  and  fall. 
But  the  house  is  still,  so  still, 

Where  a  woman  stands  at  the  door. 

Must  we  sunder  and  hew? 

Must  we  ride  to  the  fight? 

Must  we  humble  and  smite? 
Is  that  the  one  way  true 

To  Truth  and  Beauty  and  Right? 

Or  is  there  in  God's  calm  sight, 
A  place  for  the  silent  too? 

[261 


ORIENTAL     VEESES 


SHIMONOSEKI 

In  the  blue  chill  of  morning,  the  great  bell 
Of  Kameyama  speaks  across  the  straits. 
I  know  the  sun  lies  waiting  by  those  gates 

Whose  blue  portcullis  yester-evening  fell. 

Thus,  says  my  heart,  Thine  own  beloved  waits ! 

Sinks  the  bright  day.  The  timid,  silvern  moon 
O'er  the  gaunt  heights  begins  to  lure  the  sea 
To  smiles;  it  is  her  changeless  witchery; 

Still  leaps  his  heart  that  languished  all  the  noon. 
This,  speaks  my  soul,  is  thy  beloved  to  thee ! 


[27] 


OEIENTAL  VEESES 


DE  SENECTUTE 

The  World  hath  aged,  this  World  and  his  grim 
wife 

With  many  a  year,  with  many  a  year  and  grey. 

Old  age  is  in  their  blood,  sleep  and  decay, 
And  shunning  of  the  bright  and  armored  strife. 

Music  that  thrilled  untroubling  dies  away. 
Yet  I  would  reckon  once  again  with  life. 

I  do  not  struggle,  yet  within  I  feel 

A  strong,  deep  strain  that  will  not  be  denied, 
That  cries  persistent,  that  when  I  have  died 

I  must  have  met  the  tyrant  and  his  steel, 

Have  fought  the  battle,  and  gone  down  in  pride 

Where   the   scythed   chariot  turns   its   glittering 
wheel. 

What  mettle  and  what  temper  were  the  rest 
I  do  not  know,  I  have  no  speech  to  tell ; 
I  dwelt  apart,  for  I  could  never  dwell 

As  they,  I  only  know :  to  fight  my  best, 

Once  to  have  wrought  all  knightly,  that  were 
well. 


[28] 


OBIENTAL     VEESES 


And  if,  in  the  red  morning,  when  the  fray 
Has  faded  with  the  army  of  the  stars, 
One   reads   my   breast   and   knoweth   all    that 
mars 

Is  but  the  clouding  of  a  friendless  day, 

He  knows  I  too  bear  wounds  beneath  my  scars, 

Where  still  beats  on  a  heart  long  hid  away. 

Grant  me  one  work,  brief,  high  and  set  with  fear, 
That  I  may  do  straightly  and  to  the  end, 
And  for  a  moment  at  its  closing  bend 

And  hearken  to  a  voice  I  long  to  hear : 

My  own  soul  saying,  Truly  wrought,  O  friend. 


L29] 


ORIENTAL     VEESES 


INSCRIPTION  FROM  THE  JAPANESE 

Of  all  men  ancient  and  wise  that  dwell, 
What  cometh,  what  goeth  alike  'tis  well, 

Who  dareth  to  say? 

But  I  heard  by  the  Kando  of  Kori  Ken 
That  that  which  is  lost  and  is  found  again 

Is  dearer  than  aye. 


[30] 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


THE  BOTTOM  OF  THE  SEA 

Ships  of  Cathay  and  Nishapur  and  Tyre, 
Sidonian  quinqueremes  with  gold  in  store, 

Tribute  to  Zenghis  Khan's  untamed  desire 
From  Xenday  and  the.  blue  Circassian  shore, 
These  are  my  heritage  and  thousands  more ! 

Junks  of  Camul  and  caravals  of  Spain, 

Convoys  from  Elephanta,  pearls  and  slaves, 

A  monarch's  lust,  an  empire's  greed  of  gain 
Designed  to  glut,  they  rest  beneath  my  waves. 
Room?  There   is   room   for  all,  and   soundless 
graves ! 

Fronds  that  are  deathless  sway  upon  the  stream, 
Anemones  that  lave  their  shining  arms 

Subtljy  emit  a  phosphorescent  gleam 

And  waving,  wield  dim,  mesmerismic  charms 
On  all  below,  and  soothe  the  gloom's  alarms. 

Fair  grow  the  gaunt,  black  wrecks  with  violet 

moss, 
Increscent  carbuncles,  and  tufted  sprays 

Of  coral ;  here  no  longer  need  they  toss, 

Fretted  and  tried,  but  happy  in  their  loss 

They  slumber,  dreaming,  through  soft,  umber- 
ous  days. 


[311 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


Seamen  of  Ophir,  Tharsis  and  the  Ind, 

Carthage  and  Venice  and  the  Albion  isles, 
Wearied  and  wave  worn  wrestlers  with  the  wind 
Calmy  repose;  for  each  a  mermaid  smiles 

And  lulls  his  spirit  with  soft,  Lydian  wiles, 
Sunk  in  the  peace  of  my  deep,  mystic  realm, 

Where  nightly  o'er  the  gilded  planets  pass 
And  the  dim  hulls  of  ships,  but  never  helm 
Nor  rudder  stirs  to  labor,  neath  the  whelm 

Of  waters,  green  and  tranquil  as  a  glass. 

Strange  irradescent  fish,  a  pallid  light 

Diffusing,  glide  through  port  and  breach  agape, 
Great  serpents,  bred  in  subaquanean  night, 

Vast,    bloated    monsters,    armed    for    war   and 
rape, 

Leviathan,  and  beasts  of  scorpion  shape. 
Silent,  the  sands  creep,  slow,  pervading  all, 

Shifting  and  changing  softly  in  the  flow, 
Silting  through  seam  and  crevice,  till  they  pall 
And  shroud  the  sleepers  in  their  kingly  hall, 

Roofed  with  sardonyx,  paved  with  gold  below. 


[32] 


ORIENTAL  VEESES 


WAYS  FORGOT 

Deep  in  each  heart  doth  silent  dwell 
One  who  of  other  worlds  could  tell, 

And  ways  forgot, 
Often  communing  from  afar 
With  many  a  spirit-peopled  star, 

But  speaking  not. 
Till  sudden,  at  some  magic  sound 
Or  sight,  or  scent,  his  heart  hath  found, 

And  used  to  know, 
He  touches  all  the  quivering  strings 
That  twine  the  heart,  and  whispers  things 

Of  long  ago. 

A  ray  at  sunset,  like  a  word 
Far  spoken,  yet  distinctly  heard, 

The  hum  of  day 

In  all  its  noon  grown  to  a  dream, 
A  look  that  makes  the  great  world  seem 

To  slip  away, 

And  in  its  place,  a  shade  behind 
The  wistful  portals  of  the  mind, — 

A  long  closed  story, 

Whose  words  sublime  we  hearkened,  then 
Unknowing,  passed  beyond  their  ken, 

But  not  their  glory. 
And  do  we  sleep,  and  stirring  hear 
Muffled,  the  sounds  of  Day  that,  clear, 

Go  on  forever? 

And  shall  we  rouse  to  stronger  sight, 
To  perfect  memory  of  the  light, 

That  darkened  never? 


L33J 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


ASLEEP 

Slumber  and  reverie  steal  on  the  valley, 
Sleep  in  a  shroud, 

In  a  sunlit  mist  as  of  dreams, 
Where  a  white-breasted,  indolent  cloud 

Swims,  till  it  seems 

That  the  hills  have  yielded  and  bowed 
In  an  endless  reverie  over  the  valley ; 

Even  the  streams 
Murmur  but  sleepily,  sing  not  aloud. 

And  the  voice  of  the  bird  is  still 

In  the  infinite,  shrouded  deeps, 
And  the  wheel  is  hushed  of  the  mill 

Where  the  dark  stream  seeps. 
They  have  sung  their  fill, 
The  bird  and  the  mill, 

And  the  world,  it  sleeps. 

Billowless,  breathing  free  sleepeth  the  south  sea, 
Guiltless  of  storm, 

With  a  thousand  fathoms  below, 
And  a  breast  where  the  sun  is  warm 

And  islands  glow, 
That  are  fragile  and  fair  of  form. 
Billowless,  breathing  free  laves  them  the  south 

sea, 

Daily  they  grow, 
Nurtured  in  quietness,  thoughtless  of  storm. 


[34] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


And  the  pink-tinged  cockles  float 

Into  the  mystic  deep. 
Silently  steals  each  boat 
To  the  coral  keep, 
To  the  still  lagoon, 
Whose  walls  all  hewn, 
Their  builders  sleep. 


[35] 


ORIENTAL  VEBSES 


THE  FOG  ON  THE  DOWNS 

The  sea  has  called,  and  the  restless  fog  has  come 
From    Labrador,    with    cloud-built   tents,    and 

show 
Of  ghostly  legions,  legions  that  are  dumb, 

That,  never  hastening,  glide  where  e'er  they  go. 
The  sea,  their  ally,  with  his  muffled  drum, 
Is  sounding  on,  and  yonder  is  the  foe, 

The  sentinel  cliffs,  close-ranged,  now  mutely 

grand, 
Now  vocal  with  an  inbreathed  voice  of  woe, 

A  voice  of  lamentation  for  the  land 
Whom  the  stern  sea  is  stealing  from  them  slow 
With  but  the  beckoning  of  his  master  hand, 
And  she,  the  white  one,  shivering  must  go. 

So  wrapt  am  I,  so  shepherded  alone 

In  the  vast  fold,  my  every  step  is  pent 
And  fearful,  not  my  shadow  is  my  own, 

I  float,  an  island  in  the  firmament ; 

I  know  no  world  save  what  is  briefly  lent 
And  briefly  taken,  while  a  vast  unknown 
Boils  round  about,  mocking  the  little  shown, 

Surging  and  speechless  in  its  discontent. 
Were  but  this  curtain  by  some  sea-breeze  blown, 

Some    strong,    keen    gale    from    o'er    the    salt 

leagues  fleeing, 
What  wide  and  stirring  scene  of  wave  on  stone 

And  cloud-born  winds  the  prisoned  billows  free 
ing! 
Were  but  one  step  to  hurl  me  from  this  throne, 

Or  raise  me  from  this  depth  of  lesser  being, 
What  is  beyond,  that  infinite  Alone 

That  life  and  death  are  preludes  to  the  seeing? 

[361 


OEIENTAL     VEBSES 


Like  the  grey  sheep  that  ruminating-  stray 

This  seaward  down,  we  wander  girt  and  blind. 
Forever  clouds  shut  in  their  viewless  day ; 
Are  mists  within  and  fogs  without  combined 
To  blur  their  vision  and  to  keep  confined 
Their  patient  gaze?    So  is  the  lordlier  mind 
Bounded  by  barriers,  hemmed  by  mists,  the  way 
Uncertain  on,  forever  lost  behind. 

Burned  their  not  that  one  spark  in  spite  of 

rain, 
That  spirit  free  to  break  the  mould  of  clay, 

That  heart  within  contemptuous  of  the  chain, 
That  other  self,  unshackled  to  the  brain, 
Whose  dwelling  is  afar,  who  can  away, 

And  down  the  gulf  can  traverse  to  that  main 
The  white-winged  sea-gulls  seek,  nor  finding, 
turn  again. 


[37] 


OKIENTAL     VEESES 


HERODIAS'  DAUGHTER 

Great  Antipas,  the  son  of  Malthace 

And  Herod,  Archilaus'  brother,  king, 
Tetrarch  of  Perea,  Galilee 

And    east    and    south    from    Jordan's    hidden 

spring, 
Looked  from  his  carven  throne  above  a  board 

Strewn  with   the   riches   that  the   black   barks 

bring 

From  Fez  and  Firzan,  laden  with  a  horde 
Of  sweets  from  all  the  spice  isles,  and  the  lord 

Still  discontent,  called  Heroda  to  sing. 

Her  form  was  lithe,  her  step  was  light  and  gay, 

She  danced  as  never  mortal  danced  before. 
Her  hair  was  dark  and  tumbled,  fell  away, 

Her  sandaled  feet  the  faster  beat  the  floor. 
Her  silk-scarved  bodice  rose  and  fell,  the  pink 

Came  in  her  cheek,  her  mouth  a  crimson  door 
For   love   sighs   framed,   half-opened,   seemed   to 

drink 
A  faint  intoxication,  till  the  brink 

Some  sweet  sound  sought  and  song  came  flow 
ing  o'er. 

Mother  of  beauty,  daughter  of  my  sires, 
Thou  parent  fire  of  this  dancing  flame, 

I  give  thee  joy!    Of  all  thy  heart's  desires 

What  e'er  thou  askest,  let  thy  daughter  name. 

Though  half  my  realm  be  tribute  to  her  charms, 
My  dower  to  beauty  Caesar's  self  shall  shame. 

I  own  my  kingdom  captive  to  thine  arms! 


[38] 


ORIENTAL     VEESES 


He    spoke.      The    princes    stirred    with    vague 

alarms ; 
A  whisper  rose  and  none  knew  whence  it  came. 

The    captains   and   the    chiefs   peered    down    the 

board 
With  rustling  silks.    The  two  dark  heads  were 

bent 
Together  in  a  sinister  accord, 

Their  floating  curls  beneath  the  lamplight  blent. 
Till  like  a  willow  bowed  beside  a  brook, 

Released  when  spring  a  budding  life  hath  lent, 
The  girl's  form,  thin-veiled,  straightened,  and  a 

look 

Shone  in  her  eyes  that  all  the  radiance  took 
From  lamps  and  gems  and  left  them  pale  and 
spent. 

And  Antipas  cried  loudly,  Ask !   'Tis  thine ! 

And  while  she  held  each  bearded  countenance 

chained : 
I  ask  to  drink,  O  Herod,  redder  wine 

Than  any  that  my  lips  this  night  have  drained. 
Hither,  upon  a  charger,  bring,  she  cried, 

The  head^of  John  with  all  his  blood  bestained! 
And  red  the  flush  as  if  reflected  dyed 
Her  glowing  face ;  and  with  revengful  pride 

Herodias  beheld  her  victory  gained. 

Below,  in  dungeons  tenanted  by  night, 

Broke  on  the  prophet's  dream  the  headsman's 

tread, 
While  many  a  form  without  in  hurried  flight, 


L39] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


The   tidings   through   the   long,   dark   marches 

spread. 
And  e'er  a  gilded  slave  triumphant  bore 

In  smiling  pomp  aloft  that  mighty  head 
They  spread  from  mouth  to  mouth,  from  door  to 

door, 
Till  One  beside  the  Galileean  shore 

Listened  and  knew  His  messenger  was  dead. 


[40] 


OEIENTAL  VEESES 


NATURAE  DOLOR 

Why  are  the  eyes  of  violets  sad 

With  unshed  tears, 
And  yet  the  songs  they  hear  are  glad. 

There  are  no  fears 

For  violets  and  no  spiteful  years. 

Why  do  the  willows  sadly  weep 

Above  the  lake, 
Seeming  to  watch  a  loved  one's  sleep 

Who  will  not  wake. 

And  yet  the  willows  have  no  hearts,  to  break. 


[411 


OEIENTAL     VEKSES 


THE  DREAMER  OF  DREAMS 

My  tower  looks  on  the  white  and  green 
Of  a  surging  sea,  with  the  rocks  between 
Where  seaweeds  stranded  at  ebb  of  tide 
Despairing,  have  lingered  and  hopeless  died 
Ere  their  strong  eternal  lover,  the  sea 
Surged  back  to  reclaim  them  and  set  them  free. 

By  day  the  clouds  are  drifting  by 

Into  the  measureless,  out  of  the  sky 

Till  they  yield  and  shrink  when  the  sunset's  bars 
Are  broken  and  all  the  thronging  stars, 

Pale  prisoners  peer  on  the  wine-dark  sea, 

The  rocks,  the  taper-lit  tower,  and  me. 

My  taper  flickered  the  long  nights  through, 

Yet  no  one  saw  it,  or  ever  knew 
That  it  burned,  yet  maybe  it  still  will  call 
Some  friend  from  the  measureless,  after  all, 

Who  knows?    There  may  on  that  broad,  dim  sea 

Be  one  I  seek  and  that  seeks  for  me. 

One  who  has  dreamed  the  things  I  dream, 
To  whom  they  are  as  to  me  they  seem, 

Who  knows  the  voice  of  the  waves  as  strong 
They  sing  their  mighty,  their  deathless  song, 
Who  owns  the  touch  of  the  tender  hand 
I  have  felt  in  dreams,  and  will  understand. 


[42] 


ORIENTAL  VEESES 


TURN,  TRUANT  DAYS 

Turn,  truant  days,  turn,  turn  your  flight. 
The  song  is  old  and  I  have  heard  it  oft, 
And  often  echoed  when  the  breeze  was  soft 
And  each  dear  day  embraced  a  sweeter  night, — 
Turn,  truant  days,  turn,  turn  your  flight! 

Turn,  truant  days,  pursue  your  flight: 

I  have  unlearned  the  measure  of  my  song. 
Who   learns   to   wait,   though   he   hath   waited 
long, 

The  past  is  dark,  the  future  is  alighi! 

Turn,  truant  days,  pursue  your  flight: 

Turn,  truant  days,  turn,  turn  your  flight, 
Your  orbit  is  eternal,  and  before, 
I  see  your  faces  lighting  me  once  more 

Like  stars,  upon  the  bosom  of  the  night. 

Turn,  truant  days,  turn,  turn  your  flight ! 


[431 


ORIENTAL     VEESES 


THE  TRIBUTE  TO  THE  MINOTAUR 

After  the  Painting  by  Gendron. 

Maidens  of  light,  expectant  still  and  grieving, 

Your  garments  trail  the  flood,  your  hands  up 
raised 

To  guard  your  fear-filled  eyes,  your  bosoms  heav 
ing, 

Has  dread  so  left  you  motionless  and  dazed? 
The  wave  beats  not  upon  the  stony  portal, 

The  ship  sways  silent  at  its  dripping  sill. 
And  hath  He  spared  you?     Beauty  is  immortal, 

And  all  is  still,  forever,  ever  still. 

Down  the  dark  cavern  by  the  torches  flaring 

The  sandal'd  feet  have  flitted  into  gloom. 
Inured  to  joy,  once  gladness  ever  bearing, 

How  can  they  bear  you  to  the  call  of  doom? 
Your  garland  lilies  from  Orontes'  valleys, 

Tenderly  glowing,  see  they  drink  their  fill 
Of  the  salt  tide  that  coldly  o'er  them  rallies, 

But  all  is  still,  forever,  ever  still. 

Wind  thy  sad  horn,  O  boatman  dimly  peering, 

Rouse  the  gaunt  raven  from  his  nameless  feast. 
Sleep  is  the  end  of  all  that  thou  art  fearing: 

Silent  the  victim,  silent  is  the  priest. 
For  Time's  dim  courts  are  thronged  with  all  the 
fairest 

Of  every  age.    They  triumph  o'er  his  will — 
Deathless  are  they,  the  burden  that  thou  bearest. 

All,  all  is  still,  forever,  ever  still. 


[44J 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  FOAM 

I  was  born  of  rainbow  foam 
In  my  father's  sea-green  home, 

And  I  know  no  lord  or  king 

Where  I  roam. 

I  am  free,  the  deeps  beneath  me 
And  the  snow-white  gulfs  to  wreath  me 

With  an  opalescent  ring, 

And  the  dome, — 
Laughing  eyes  or  cloudy  frown — 

It  is  mine,  I  love  it  well ; 

When  the  wave  is  on  the  swell 

Up  goes  my  cockle  shell, 
And  down,  Oh,  down ! 

There's  a  palace  built  for  me 
In  the  sunlit  summer  sea, 

And  its  walls  are  all  of  pearl, 

And  of  jade, 

Where  the  coral  gnomes  are  toiling 
Down  beneath  the  waters  boiling, 

Unafraid. 
There,  if  some  poor  mortal  drown, 

Bear  him  lightly,  bear  him  well ; 

When  the  wave  is  on  the  swell 

Up  goes  my  cockle  shell, 
And  down,  Oh,  down ! 


[451 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


THE  GATE  OF  TEARS 

Two  gates  there  are  on  the  path  of  life 
That  stretches  away  through  the  years, 

And  one  is  the  gate  of  joy,  dear  love, 
And  one  is  the  gate  of  tears. 

And  one  is  set  in  a  meadow  deep 

Where  sweet-scented  flowers  cloy, 
And  your  feet  are  wet  with  the  dew,  dear  love, 

And  that  is  the  gate  of  joy. 

And  the  other  is  hard  by  a  mighty  rock, 

Where  a  bristling  wood  uprears, 
And  your  feet  are  pierced  with  the  stones,  dear 
love, 

And  that  is  the  gate  of  tears. 

And  when  you  come  to  the  meadow  gate, 

Where  a  thousand  hopes  decoy, 
It  may  be  that  I  shall  be  far  away 

When  you  pass  through  the  gate  of  joy. 

But  when  you  come  to  the  rocky  gate, 

Whatever  the  future  years, 
God  grant  I  be  by  your  side,  dear  love, 

When  you  pass  through  the  gate  of  tears. 


[461 


OBIENTAL     VEESES 


THE  BOND 

I  looked  on  one  whose  death  was  nigh, 
I  saw  his  palsied  fingers  shake, 
But  there  was  fire  when  he  spake, — 

Life  struggled  bravely  in  his  eye. 

Till  some  strong  spring  upwelling  high, 
The  soul  its  secret  fetter  broke 
And,  standing  in  his  eyes,  it  spoke 

As  one  who  knows  he  shall  not  die. 

God  never  made  me  to  abhor 

The  light,  the  language  of  the  sun, 
Unbounded  freedom,  never  one 

Of  all  His  hosts  doth  love  it  more. 

And  power  is  in  me  now  to  soar, 

Blazing  and  bright,  His  heavens  wide, 
Yet  here  in  daily  chains  I  bide, 

My  bondage  groweth  evermore. 

Like  one  who  in  some  cunning  keep, 

Some  prison  built  for  doomed  men, 
Sees  daily  all  the  walls  that  pen 

His  little  space  upon  him  creep, 

Filled  with  a  strength  that  fain  would  leap 
And  strive  to  hurl  the  ramparts  down 
That  cramp  his  limbs,  he  can  but  frown 

Upon  the  Silence,  till  he  sleep. 


[47] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


God  never  made  me  to  deform 

My  likeness  with  a  borrowed  mould, 
A  mask  with  hundred  handlings  cold, 

When  all  my  life  beneath  beats  warm ! 

I  love  to  rule  myself  the  storm, 

To  wield  the  lightnings  that  within 
Fight  to  be  free.     They  call  them  sin : 

God  knows,  He  made  them  in  His  form. 

God  never  made  a  death  to  fear. 

I  know  no  end ;  and  yet  I  wait 

Within  the  confines  of  a  state 
Where  dwelleth  all  that  I  hold  dear 
And  know  not,  when  that  change  draws  near 

That  is  to  free  me  of  my  chain, 

If  I  shall  look  on  aught  again 
For  which  I  would  have  freedom  here. 

Who  made  me  of  the  frame  of  God 
And  put  in  heart  and  brain  His  fire, 
He  knows  the  battle  of  desire 

Against  the  dull,  encumbering  sod. 

Who  put  within  my  hand  the  rod 
Whose  wielding  is  His  deathless  joy, 
He  knows  he  hath  not  framed  a  toy, 

But  He  hath  made,  and  chained,  a  god. 


[48] 


ORIENTAL  VEBSES 


THE  FATHER'S  CHILDREN 

A  father  led  all  of  his  children 
One  after  another,  alone 

To  a  room  that  was  sunny  and  cheerful, 
Though  faced  with  a  coping  of  stone, 
Of  grim,  granite  rock  and  of  stone. 

He  left  them  there,  barring  securely 
The  door,  and  he  came  not  again, 

And  some  of  the  children  were  happy, 
Pretending  themselves  to  be  men, 
Imagining  that  they  were  men. 

They  played  with  their  toys  and  their  baubles, 
They  laughed  in  their  vain,  childish  pride, 

But  some  of  them  grew  very  weary, 
And  some  were  neglected,  and  cried, 
And  some  there  were  lonely  that  cried. 

Some  called  to  their  father,  and  wondered 
When  he  would  release  them  at  last, 

But  the  father  afar  never  answered, 
And  slowly  the  long  hours  passed, 
Yes,  surely,  the  long  hours  passed. 

And  others  caught  up  the  bright  playthings 
And    kept    them,    and   gloated    in    greed, 

But  some  there  were  hurt  in  the  struggle, 
And  some  were  in  hunger  and  need. 
Some  children  there  were  who  had  need. 


[49] 


OKIENTAL     VERSES 


At  last,  when  the  sunlight  was  dying, 
They  all  grew  afrighted  alone; 

All  day  they  had  longed  for  their  father 
And  cried  to  the  wall  that  was  stone, 
The  cold,  cruel  wall  all  of  stone. 

Some  said  he  had  never  existed, 
And  some  had  forgotten  his  name, 

But  they  all  fell  asleep  in  the  darkness, 
And  when  it  was  morning,  he  came. 
With  the  sun  in  its  rising,  He  came. 


L  50  J 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


THE  HERMIT  THRUSH 

I  who  have  been  alone  so  long, 
So  much  apart  have  sung  my  song 
In  solitary  ways, 

It  seems  a  grevious  thing  and  wrong 
That  I  amidst  the  stranger  throng 
Must  finish  out  my  days. 

It  all  is  strange,  and  strangest,  men. 
My  days  are  few;  I  know  not  when 
My  cage  shall  cease  to  bind. 

Then,  like  my  song,  shall  I  be  free 
And  floating  through  eternity 
Leave  worlds  and  men  behind? 

For  here,  they  know  not  what  I  sing; 
They  hark  as  to  a  lifeless  thing, 
And  when  my  song  is  sung, 

They  do  not  know  my  heart  is  there, 
All  palpitating  on  the  air, 
Ecstatic,  rapture  wrung. 

Ah,  I  have  poured  my  life  so  long 
In  many  a  burst  of  spirit  song, 
My  strength  is  ebbing  fast 

And  all  the  fires  of  all  the  years 
And  all  man's  transports  and  his  tears 
Must  die  in  me  at  last. 


[51] 


OBIENTAL     VEESES 


I  only  sang  my  song  to  God, 
The  lowly  flower,  the  virgin  sod, 
The  sympathic  wood, 

But  these  that  go  their  hurried  way 
About  me,  through  the  garish  day 
Have   never   understood. 

Alone,  would  I  in  joy  expire, 
As  fire  restored  to  parent  fire, 
The  stream  that  finds  the  sea. 

What  Nature  gives  she  understands, 
Though  fallen  in  blind,  neglectful  hands 
She  hearkens  unto  me. 


L52J 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


THE  MERMAID 

By  the   phosphorous   gleam,   by  the  pole   star's 

beam, 

By  the  wheel  house  lantern  white, 
I  see  her  rise  'neath  the  star-set  skies, 
When  the  sea-mew  cries, 
By  night. 

She  beckons  and  calls  to  her  emerald  halls, 

She  tuneth  her  living  lyre, 
And  she  melts  away  in  the  ocean  spray 
At  the  break  of  day, 

In  fire. 

Black  is  her  hair  and  her  face  is  fair, 
Like  a  corpse  she  is  pale  and  cold, 

And  she  beckons  me  to  the  deep,  dark  sea, 

Boisterous  and  free, 
And  bold. 

Sweetly  she  sings  where  the  sea  dirge  rings, 
Where  the  sands  go  creeping  slow; 

Houses  of  pearl  bright  flags  unfurl, 

Where  the  currents  whirl 
And  flow. 

Singeth  she  soft  when  the  stars  are  aloft, 

Singeth  she  loud  in  the  gale ; 

When  winds  low  winging,  the  waves  are  flinging, 
I  hear  her  singing, 

And  quail. 


L53] 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


Come  down  to  my  realm,  O  thou  man  at  the 

helm  ! 

Come  down  unto  us,  cries  she; 
Riches  we  bring  from  the  Islands  of  Spring, 
To  make  you  a  king 
Of  the  sea! 

Glide  and  flow,  glide  and  flow, 
Come  to  my  castles  of  gold  below. 

Mermaids  are  sleeping,  sands  are  creeping, 
Soft  and  slow,  soft  and  slow. 

Glide  and  flow,  glide  and  flow, 
Never  a  storm  in  our  realm  doth  blow ! 
Kings  of  the  earth  sleep  here  below, 
Soft  and  slow,  soft  and  slow. 


L54J 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


BALSHAZAR 

All  Babylon  is  light,  the  rich  and  rare, 

The  courted  capital  of  Assyria's  kings. 
And  many  a  strain  of  music  fills  the  air, 

And    many    a    scent    the    night-born    blossom 

flings, 

Till  the  deep  midnight  to  the  welkin  rings. 
Balshazar  makes  a  feast  of  golden  wine, 
Who   rules   tonight  o'er  many   a  princely 

hoard. 

His  princes  and  his  wives  about  him  shine, 
With  many  a  honeyed  word  whereon  kings 

dine, 

And  power  and  beauty  wreathe  the  sumptu 
ous  board. 

Balshazar  makes  a  feast.     High  flames  the  fire 

Of  pride  and  passion  kindled  in  the  heart, 
And  none  may  dare  withhold  the  king's  desire, 
Who  sells  his  subject  slaves  in  many  a  mart, 
But  sing  his  praises  some,  applaud  them  part. 
And  the  great  revel  swings  with  feast  and 

song, 

Gay  with  the  laughter  of  a  thousand  lips. 
Rolls  the  rich  voice  the  sounding  halls  along, 
Loud  and  more  boisterous,  for  the  wine  is 

strong 
That  Vanity  from  jewelled  goblets  sips. 

Goblets  of  crystal,  eye-bright  in  the  flame, 
All  roseate  with  wine,  fair  to  the  gaze, 

But  the  great  king,  imperious,  calls  the  name 
Of  his  high  treasurer,  and  in  amaze 

[551 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


He  hastens,  and  he  crieth  "Length  of  days!" 
But  great  Balshazar  bids  him  bring  the  gold 

And  silver  vessels  from  Jehovah's  shrine 
In  vanquished  Jerusalem  of  old, 
Seized  by  his  sire  when  Judea's  fold 

Was  ravaged  by  the  wolf  of  Palestine. 

The  gold  and  silver  vessels,  swiftly  sought, 

All  tremblingly  the  aged  keeper  brings, 
Sacred,  with  images  and  symbols  wrought, 
And  priceless  to  the  treasures  of  Earth's  kings. 
But  louder  still  hilarious  laughter  rings ; 
And  bold  Balshazar  brims  the  golden  bowl, 
And  all  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  shrine ; 
He  drinketh  deep,  with  laughter  in  his  soul. 
So  drink  they  all,  and  mocking  murmurs  roll 
From  lip  to  lip  down  the  voluptuous  line. 

But  lo,  a  sudden  portent,  grim,  appears, 

Sudden,  as  from  the  skies  a  meteor  shines, 
Filling  the  tyrant  heart  with  awful  fears 

That  made  its  boast  in  spoiling  sacred  shrines. 
A  hand,  upon  the  wall,  in  fiery  lines 

Of  living  brightness,  in  an  unknown  speech 
Writeth,    and    dim    reverberant    thunders 

sound. 

That  spirit  hand,  beyond  the  monarch's  reach 
Writes    on ;    the    kingly    cheek    cold    terrors 

bleach 
As  he  had  trod  a  serpent  on  the  ground. 


[561 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


And  MENE,  MENE,  TEKEL,  PERES  clear 
That  blazing  message  burns.    The  feast  of  ease 
And  laughter  turns  to  unrestrained  fear, 

And  here  and  there  a  frightened  favorite  flees. 
As  when  a  hostile  hand  a  hive  of  bees 

Stirs  with  stern  touch,  from  every  honeyed 

comb 

They  fly  in  clusters,  startled,  seek  the  light, 
And     here     and     there    bewildered     straying, 

roam 
Still  drowsy,  with  much  protest,  round  the 

dome, 
Some  scatter,  startled  to  precipitate  flight. 

As  when  the  last  left  guardians  of  the  hive, 
Despairing  as  it  seems,  break  ope  the  cells 
Of  treasured  nectar,  yet  to  taste  alive 

Those   precious    sweets    of    chastened   chalice- 
wells, 

And  hopeless  frenzy  thoughts  of  flight  dispels, 
So  turn  the  revellers,  many  a  one  to  quaff 
Again  the  fount  of  joy,  while  blazing  Doom 
Spells  its  fierce  summons,  the  insaner  half 
Mocks  its  dread  image,  and  with  hollow  laugh 
And  feverish  folly  rings  the  banquet  room. 

Great  Daniel  stands  before  the  king  this  night, 
Whom  swift  the  queen's  own  messengers  have 

brought, 

Skilled  in  all  omens ;  and  in  him  the  light 
Of  prophecy,  who  many  a  wonder  wrought. 
But  all  his  wisdom  scorneth  to  be  bought, 
Though    many    a    promised    land    the    king 
makes  bloom, 

[571 


OEIENTAL     VEKSES 


Till  now  he  speaks,  and  saith,  "Behold  the 

flame!" 

Yon  is  the  message  of  thy  certain  doom, 
For  God  appoints  another  in  thy  room, 
And  He  hath  marked  destruction  o'er  thy 
name. 

Thus  shall  it  be :  in  balance  thou  art  weighed 
And    wanting    found.      Thy    kingdom    to    the 

Mede, 

Ere  many  a  time  the  trump  of  war  hath  brayed, 
Or  many  a  time  answered  the  valiant  steed, 
Shall  fall,  the  legacy  of  Iran's  seed. 

Thou  who  with  impious  hands  His  cups  hast 

drained, 

While  all  thy  people  drank  to  gods  of  stone, 
Under    God's    power    alone    thy    line    hath 

reigned, 
Under   His   power   thy   father's   throne   was 

gained, 
Who  lifteth  up  and  casteth  down  alone. 

Lo,  swiftly  came  the  storm.     The  conflict  raged. 

Fast  fighting  fell  Balshazar's  hosts  in  vain, 
Against  a  mightier  arm  in  strife  engaged, 
He  came  to  combat  fated  to  be  slain, 
He  fought  for  kingdom   who  no  more   might 

reign. 

When  violet  dawn  the  sleeping  heavens  dyed, 
And  scaled  the  shadow  ramparts  of  his  foe, 
The  citadel  of  power  and  of  pride, 
Where  now  no  more  might  mirth  and  revel 

bide, 
Still  in  the  arms  of  earth  was  stretched  low. 

[581 


ORIENTAL,     VERSES 


SHINTO 

One  autumn  eve,  when  the  rude  wind  had  hurled 
The  maned  wave  back  and  left  the  shore  be 
reaved, 
(Silent  and  silvern  she  but  lay  and  grieved, 

Beloved  of  the  shy  ripples  as  they  curled 

Close  to  her  side  where  her  soft  bosom  heaved.) 

I  saw  a  boat  with  neither  oar  nor  sail 
Ride  on  the  flood,  and  in  the  boat  a  man, 

And  on  the  man  a  cloak  of  winding  blue, 
And  he  seemed  ancient  as  some  Eastern  tale 
Of  genii  from  the  land  of  Ispahan, 

As  down  the  deep  his  silvery  sampan  flew. 

There  sat,  the  while,  by  an  old  fir  and  bent, 
A  maid  of  Kyushu  in  her  gown  of  grey, 

With  crimson  geta  for  her  lacquered  shoon, 
Her  obi  with  the  cherry  bloom  besprent, 
And  in  her  hair  camelias.    Soft  and  gay, 

Her   voice   was   like   a   stream    beneath    the 
moon. 

Another  stood  and  gazed  upon  the  sea — 

Dim  were  his  eyes  and  leaned  he  on  a  staff, 
His  ancient  features  withered  into  brown. 
Child  of  a  dead,  forgotten  empire,  he, 

Who   lived   to   hear  the   new-born  younglings 

laugh 
At  the  old  realm  forevermore  gone  down. 

And  yet  another  came,  the  maiden's  brother, 
Last  named,  as  neither  age  nor  weakness  plead, 
But  first,  I  judge,  among  true  men  and  good. 

[591 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


Straight,  in  the  moon,  I  have  not  seen  another 
Whose   form   so   spoke   of   clear  and   knightly 

deed — 
His  mantel  shadowed  with  a  crested  hood. 

Brother,  I  said,  often  have  I  beheld 

Somehow,  afar,  a  dream  within  a  dream, 
Yon  silent,  mystic  mariner  and  eld, 

Whose  fairy  bark  unstruggling  wins  the  stream. 
Was  it  in  forests  where  the  fir  is  felled 

And  tunic'd  woodmen  swing  with  singing 
stroke 

And  the  shy  spirit  flees  the  shuddering  oak, 
Or  in  the  smithy,  where  the  forges  weld 

The  argent  metal  in  the  ardent  flame — 

Swaying  in  rhythm  with  his  shadowy  frame, 
Then  out  into  the  dark  where  all  is  quelled. 

I  think  that  once  I  sat  beside  a  stone 

And  ancient  lantern  by  a  tile-walled  tomb, 
When    slow    he    stole    from    the    enshadowing 
gloom, 

And  crooned  softly  in  a  monotone, 

And  o'er  the  sunset  veiled  his  mantle  blue, 
Saying:    My  little  people,  sleep  to  you! 

Then   answered   he   whose   frame   was   slim   and 

true, 

Whose  face  was  not  as  those  who  meanly  war, 
Sir,  you  may  see  him  seldom  near  the  shore 
When   storms  and  night  the  thundering  depths 

embrew. 
Traverse  the  black  canals  where  moonlight 

lies 
On  masts  of  teak  and  hulls  of  carven  oak, 

[601 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


Where  the  slow  lorcha  from  the  quarry  plies 
With    wielded    pole    and    stern-oar's    timed 

stroke 

To  where  the  sea  tosses  beneath  the  skies. 
The  temple  porch  is  red  with  lantern  light, 

The  low  bazaar  where  flare  a  thousand  lamps, 
The  watchman  clanking  through  the  wide-eyed 

night — 

All  is  a  bivouac  of  waking  camps, 
When  far  the  foe  lies  silent  in  his  might. 

Then  comes  the  still  approach,  the  mist  of  dawn, 
The  grey  ghost  summoned  from  that  time  re 
mote, 
When,  sailing  in  his  silver  cloud-built  boat, 

The  god  came  seeking  to  these  coasts  of  morn. 

I  see  him  then.     His  robe  is  woven  fine, 
His  shoon  are  ashen,  and  his  voice  is  low, 
And  then  he  speaks:    What  seek  ye  here  to 
know, 

Far  called  and  late  to  these  dim  shores  of  mine, 

Ye  who  are  children  of  an  alien  line, 

Whose   blood    is    not   the   blood   within   their 
veins 

Who  are  my  children?    It  is  I  that  reigns. 
Your  sons  have  come  from  many  a  distant  shrine, 

But  in  confusion  shall  ye  turn  again. 
What  seek  ye  on  these  sacred  shores  of  mine? 

I  am  of  old,  and  you  are  only  men ! 

Sister,  what  say  you,  is  he  not  of  those, 

Thy  mother's  kinsmen,  dwellers  of  the  isles, 
Whose  temples  gird  the  cryptomeria's  files, 

[61] 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


Whose    chants   are    in    the   evening   breeze   that 

blows 

By  traceried  walls  in  cedarn  cloisters  carved, 
Where   daily   cunning  wreaths   the.  odorous 

wood, 
Where  the  grave  bonzes  stint  their  meager 

food, 
But   still    the   geisha   dance    in    scarlet   scarved. 

She  spoke,  the  words  like  summer  showers 
On  tired  fields  of  autumn  brown 
When  thirst  is  in  the  pent-roofed  town 

And  tears  are  in  the  eyes  of  flowers : 

In  many  a  word,  in  many  a  vision, 

In  many  a  sound  and  glimpse,  half  caught, 

His  presence,  subtly  inwrought, 
Hath  stolen  to  my  petty  prison. 
The  shadow  circling  o'er  the  wall, 

The  westering  sun's  red  rays,  and  low, 

The  sinking  of  my  spirit's  glow 
In  starlit  silence  over  all. 
I  feel  his  magic  far  away, 

Far,  far  away,  compelling,  strong, 
Upon  my  trembling  heartstrings  play 

And  tempt  to  dear  delight  and  song. 
The  waterfall's  light  plash,  and  soft 

The  passing  of  a  whispering  breeze, 
The  bird  that  stirs  the  plumes  aloft 

Of  fringed  firs  and  ebon  trees, 

He  is  the  silent  lord  of  these, 
Of  censered  gods  in  golden  halls, 

Of  silent  shrines  'mid  flowers  and  bees, 
Of  wasty  shores,  and  lamplit  walls. 
And  there  is  music  in  his  sway, 

[62] 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


And  deathless  joyance  in  his  smile; 
He  fluteth  softly,  I  am  gay; 

He  fluteth  loudly,  mile  on  mile 
I  wander  to  the  westering-  day; 

And  I  can  tell  when  I  am  sad 
That  he  is  weak  and  fades  away 

To  dreaming,  but  his  dreams  are  glad ! 

Age  hath  the  last  of  all,  and  slow  of  speech, 

But  sure  of  word,  he  spoke  the  reverend  sage, 
Whose  silence  was  the  wisdom  of  his  age, 

And  his  white  hairs  no  pity  need  beseech : 

At  times  upon  the  winding  roads  that  turn 
Through  deep,  rich  lands  to  the  clean,  salty 

bay, 
Amid  the  smoke  of  dim  blue  fires,  that  burn 

Amid  the  chaff,  I  meet  him  in  the  way, 
With  pipe  for  wand  enwreathed  with  pungent 

fern, 
The  mystic  opiate  of  his  secret  sway. 

Mid  checkered  sunlight  in  a  temple  court, 
High-walled  with  brick  and  tiled  with  mossy 

stone, 

(Till  the  thick  twilight  cuts  his  glory  short 
And  lulls  the  clamor  to  a  monotone), 
Like  a  striped  lizard  basks  he  in  the  noon, 

Or  in  a  crevice  of  the  western  slopes, 
Above  a  field  of  flags  amid  the  tune 
Of  piping  thickets,  casts  he  horoscopes 
In  penciled  shadows  on  an  imaged  moon. 
Again,  at  dusk  I  meet  him  in  a  road, 

Between    the    paddy    fields,    when    grey    mist 
spreads 

L63] 


OEIENTAL     VERSES 


Across  the  marshes,  bending  'neath  a  load 

Of  flaming  flowers  that  nod  their  shining  heads. 
Till  the  arch  moon  above  the  twisted  pine 

Glints  out,  and  the  salt  breeze  is  from  the  bay 
Where,  by  the  shell  road  glistening  with  spray 
The  sampans  ride,  and  on  my  lips  is  brine. 
Then,  then  he  lingers  wilful  in  their  mid 

The  sleepy  folk  whose  villages  are  dark 
Save  for  the  brazier's  glow  but  dimly  hid 

Or  the  slim  lantern's  dim  and  fluttering  spark. 
Perhaps,  I  do  not  know,  but  it  is  he 

That  weaves  the  web  of  many  a  hempen 

strand 

Where  the  brown  fishers  wade  into  the  sea 
And  draw  their  shining  victims  to  the  land, 
And  Kwannon  prays ;  all  merciful  is  she ! 

Fly,  shining  sails,  and  find  your  wondrous  strands, 
And  you,  dim  sampans,  to  the  inlet  come; 

For  those  who  pass  seek  on  in  distant  lands. 
To  Him  the  voices  of  unrest  are  dumb, 

To  Him  and  whomsoever  understands. 

Still  the  lights  flare  in  the  calm  twilight  bay 
And  sampans  lift  their  slow  and  slanting  sails, 
And  the  rose  glory  o'er  the  headland  pales 

And  gleams,  and  faints,  but  never  dies  away. 

Like  drowsy  children  at  the  closing  day, 

The    little   waves    fall    dreaming   in   the   haze, 
But  the  proud  junks,  their  burning  pyres  ablaze, 

Seek  the  wide  deep  with  wings  that  will  not  stay. 


[641 


OEIENTAL     VEESES 


THE  GOBLIN  KING 

Beside  the  grim,  the  grey,  cold  sea, 

I  heard  a  Goblin  call  to  me 

Beneath  a  rock,  beside  the  water, 

He  cried:     Go  pray  thy  lady  daughter 

To  bring  some  wine  to  me. 

For  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide, 
And  I  am  prisoned  fast  and  long, 
And  I  was  wont  to  feast  and  song, 

And  roaming  through  the  woodland  wide ! 

Of  old,  of  old  I  roamed  the  wood, 

Of  old  I  dwelt  in  lordly  state 
Before  they  came,  the  black-heart  brood 

To  make  me  thus  disconsolate. 
For  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide, 

And  stones  are  hard  that  prisons  be, 
Yet  here  in  daily  hope  I  bide, 

That  one  will  hear  and  come  to  me. 

They  came  with  drums  and  dancing  fire, 

And  wreaths  and  chants  and  incense  sweet; 
They  stole  away  my  heart's  desire ; 

She  was  all  fair  and  lithe  and  fleet. 
And  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide ; 

Alone,  they  bound  and  prisoned  me, 
Nor  may  I  taste  of  aught  beside, 

Though  well  I  know  the  sweets  there  be! 

A  thousand  gnomes  brought  golden  urns, 
With  red,  red  wine  and  crystal  filled; 

And  all  my  couch  was  flowers  and  ferns, 
And  whatsoever  maid  I  willed. 

[651  fl    "••• 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


But  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide, 
And  men  ride  up  the  high,  white  road, 

And  many  a  goodly  maid  beside, 
Nor  ever  glance  to  my  abode. 

The  bee  sucks  sweetness  all  the  day, 

And  dwells  in  flowers  from  morn  to  night, 
But  never,  never  need  he  stay, 

And  never  feels  he  gloom  nor  blight. 
But  coldly  flows  the  salt,  salt  tide, 

And  I  am  weary  of  my  breath, 
Though  all  the  world  is  fair  beside, 

And  yet  I  taste  nor  life  nor  death. 

In  feasts  we  sat  at  silken  boards 

Endraped  with  silver  gossameres, 
And  round  me  sat  my  bearded  lords, 

And  maidens  served  whose  sires  were  peers. 
And  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide; 

I  loved  too  well  and  she  was  fair, 
And  here  in  bondage  dire  I  bide, 

Who  never   thought   to  know  despair. 

I  hate  the  stone,  I  fear  the  water ; 

I  dread  the  grey,  the  moaning  sea ; 
I  pray  thee  bid  thy  lady  daughter 

To  fetch  some  wine  to  me. 
For  coldly  runs  the  salt,  salt  tide, 

And  all  the  foam  is  salt  and  strong; 
And  here,  athirst  and  cramped,  I  bide ; 

And  I  have  waited,  waited  long! 


[661 


OEIENTAL  VERSES 


GLOW  GOLDEN  OCEAN 

Glow,  golden  ocean,  on  thy  silver  sands ! 
The  city  stretches,  grey    and  lonely,  here, 
But  o'er  its  spires  I  know  that  thou  art  near, 

And  when  the  task  is  heavy  on  our  hands 
And  gross  earth-voices  only  do  we  hear 

Thou  rollest  free,  and  surging  o'er  thy  strands, 

Glow,  golden  ocean,  on  thy  silver  sands ! 

Earth  binds  her  chains  and  lays  her  strait  com 
mands, 

And  we,  her  bondmen,  do  her  constant  will, 
But  thou  art  far  from  engine  and  from  mill, 

Thy  speech  is  ever  of  unpeopled  lands. 

So  bid  us  dream,  and  dreaming,  hoping  still, 

The  man-made  city  thick  about  us  stands. 

Glow,  golden  ocean,  on  thy  silver  sands ! 


[67] 


ORIENTAL     VERSES 


SAMOTHOE 

Samothoe,  dim  pilot  and  unseen, 

Who  through  the  gloom  my  glinting  bark  dost 

guide, 

Whence  springs  the  wind,  where  sets  the  mys 
terious  tide 

That  under  all  the  moon's  caressing  sheen 
Draws  ever  on  and  will  not  be  denied? 
Lost  are  the  friendly  shores  that  once  we  sailed 
beside. 

Samothoe,  I  hear  the  swelling  drum, 
The  great  wind  pipes  upon  the  minor  key 
Of  floods  in  caverns  that  I  cannot  see. 

Guide,  guide  my  bark,  that  when  the  torrent  come 
Alone,  upon  us  fleeting,  thee  and  me, 
Our  brows  may  yet  be  calm,  our  hearts  may  yet 
be  free. 


Us] 


ORIENTAL  VERSES 


THE  HEART  THAT  REMEMBERS 

It  is  far  from  the  hills  to  the  wave  tossed  shore, 
From  their  deathless  calm  to  its  ceaseless  war 
And  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  restless  tide, 
And  Time  is  heavy  and  Earth  is  wide, 

And  the  days  will  lag  in  the  brightest  fall, 
But  the  heart  that  remembers  o'ercomes  them 
all. 

The  surge  will  foam  in  its  rainbow  spray 
On  boulder  and  cave  through  the  long,  bright  day 
And  roll  far  out  in  its  phosphorent  light 
Through  the  starlit  hush  of  the  listening  night, 
And  no  one  hark  to  its  silent  call, 
But    the    heart    that    remembers    beats    on 
through  all. 

The  myrtle  will  crimson,  and  bye  and  bye 
The  winds  o'er  its   shivering  branch  will   sigh, 
And  the  tangled  paths  will  be  white  with  frost 
And  the  way  over  boulder  and  brake  be  lost, 
And  lonely  leaves  will  flutter  and  fall, 
But  the  heart  that  remembers  outlasts  them 
all. 


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